The Glass Petal
by Kolinshar Benito
Summary: For a second chance, Heero Yui is transported to a time where the Gundams’ didn’t lose the war, Relena Peacecraft wasn’t assassinated, and... when he wasn't the Last Pilot. In a world where he just wants to die, can she make him want to live?
1. Prologue

**The Glass Petal**

Prologue

By: Kolinshar Benito

* * *

For a second chance, Heero Yui is transported back to a time where the Gundams' didn't lose the war, Relena Peacecraft wasn't assassinated, and… when he wasn't the only pilot left alive.

* * *

A long figure stood in the centre of what appeared to once be a grand ballroom in the Sanq Ruins. Dressed in a stark white suit, he faced a giant portrait of the former Peacecraft family, one which had been destroyed with time. The oil painting was run with mixed color, and stains ruined a portrait that had been once been a special person's only connection to her past. The pale, lonely figure played with an object in his hand fondly, twisting and turning it in his hands. Sparkles of light glinted off its surface fondly, a faux light in the darkness that had embraced the world.

In the devastated room, glass shards littered the torn up marbled floor, the only remnant of the giant six by six meter empress chandelier that had once hung from the room of the Sanq Kingdom Palace. Above him, the crumbled ceiling revealed the dark blue sky, stars and satellites dotting the horizon in small balls of yellow and while. Indeed, the man's clothing and pale complexion was the complete opposite of the theme of the destroyed room. He himself seemed to be a light in the darkness.

Another man approached the figure clothed in white, his left hand fondly holding an automatic magnum, his finger twitching on the trigger. He walked with a purpose, a sense of experience and caution in his gait. He was dressed in a set of ancient military fatigues he had found in the attic of an abandoned house. His shoes were worn, the fabric bare, and skin was seen through the unhindered holes. You survived on what you could find these days.

The man stopped, his blue eye trained on the man in front of him.

"Took you long enough, Heero," the individual in the virgin color called out, his back still toward the man with the gun.

"Patience used to be one of your virtues, Zechs," Heero commented, referring to the name of the former Lightning Count.

Heero could almost see the smirk forming on his lips. "People change. Just like you have, Perfect Soldier."

Heero grew silent at his former nickname. He knew he was unsuited for that label, no longer being able to disregard the emotions he had been taught. It certainly brought back memories though. But without emotions, Heero doubted he would have survived as long as he did. Dr. J had mistook what emotions could to a person's will, and had assumed that Heero would not be able to utilize such a tool to his disposal with the upbringing he had been raised with.

_Perfect Soldier…_ that had been a thing of the past for him.

"Well, I've grown tired with the life that I've ended up living," came Milliardo's offhanded reply. Heero was taken aback slightly. "Now that I know the life we could have been living, I'm tired. It's selfish, but I want more, Yui. So much more…"

"…what are you talking about?" Heero was apprehensive, not expecting this response. He did not mistake Zechs for a fool, so what was all this bogus crap that was coming out of his mouth?

The air was tense, awkward, and stale. Memories surfaced in Heero's mind, as he noticed the marble "S" lain in the stone floor. Oh, he remembered now… This had once been the ballroom. He could almost see the once mighty giant stone pillars holding up the mural ceiling of angels. Stringed instruments played soul-filled songs flawlessly in the background of his mind as he swept Relena off her feet and onto the dance floor…

"The world has strayed far from the path it was originally intended to take. The colonies and the earth are dying, and not slowly either. Things should have been different, Heero, much different," Milliardo commented softly, finally turning around and facing the former pilot of Gundam Wing Zero.

"Why do you say that?"

There was a glass figure in Milliardo's hand, a perfectly shaped glass rose. The crystal reflected the little light there was, the object twinkling prettily in his hands.

"Because I've seen what the world should have been like. And it's the path that this world should have followed, but it didn't," Milliardo stated, a sad tinge to his voice. He motioned to the ruins behind him with a wave of his hand, "This life is just the remnant of the world's worst possible outcome. This timeline should never have had come to be in the first place."

Milliardo gripped the glass rose tightly in his hand, and crimson lines began spreading its way in his grip. The blood gathered at one point, and fell to the ground in a single drop. The rose hadn't seemed sharp enough to cut. Perhaps this was Zechs' weapon?

Heero remained quiet, not knowing what to say.

"Do you believe in second chances, Heero?"

Milliardo Peacecraft looked up slowly, and Heero stepped back in slight horror. The former pilot of Tallgeese stared blindly ahead, his eyes an endless void of white. Heero's thoughts raced with probabilities. Was Milliardo blind? Were they contacts? Was it some weird chemical experiment gone wrong? It was a slightly creepy scene. His pale skin, pupil-less eyes, and white blonde hair gave him an ethereal look -- a cold and uncaring ethereal look.

Heero had to laugh at that comment. "Second chances?" he looked amused, but still eerily nervous around Milliardo's disconcerting eyes. "If such things happened, I wouldn't even be here today."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because… if I had a second chance to do things over, everything would have been done differently."

"Exactly," the pale man stated in a matter a factly voice.

Zechs walked toward Heero, completely ignoring the gun in the young man's hand. He twirled the stem of the flower in his bleeding hand, its chrysalis of petals glowing with a tinge pink and black in the light. Heero stared at the flower, and then realized that the light was actually coming from within the glass object itself, and it was not simply reflecting the practically non-existent light.

"You are the key, Heero. The very key which will unlock this world's timeline to become what it should have been," Milliardo stopped, unusually close to the Wing Zero pilot. He laid a hand on Heero's shoulder, and his blank pupil-less eyes stared at Heero with blind perception. Heero forced himself not to brush off the offending calloused hand.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop to the freezing mark, and Heero found himself being captivated by those unreal blank eyes, unable to tear his eyes away.

The glass rose in Milliardo's hand turned ash black and a silver glow surrounded the two men.

"And what should have this world been?" Heero whispered in a rasped voice that had forced its way out.

The world began to phase out around him in a blinding light of colors, till it all turned black and the only thing he could see was Milliardo's faded figure. A thing he could only determine as Milliardo's head leaned forward and whispered in his ear.

"A world of peace…"

And the world that Heero Yui had come to know and had failed to save… ceased to exist.

* * *

Ooh… weird! O.o.

What do you think?

Anyway, I'd like any ideas on how to improve this. Comments? Input? It seems a tad strange right now, considering this is just a prologue, but once the first chapter comes out, everything will fall into place.

Reviews are appreciated. Constructive criticism is welcome.

_Let the insanity ensue. Much mahal,_

**Kolinshar Benito**


	2. Chapter 1: Second Chances

**The Glass Petal**

Chapter One: Second Chance

By: Kolinshar Benito

* * *

When Heero came to, the first thing that he noticed was that he was in an actual bed, and not some makeshift cover that he had made the night before beside a dumpster. Amazing… an actual bed, with a mattress, and pillows, and a blanket…? His disoriented eyes focused on the room around him, and found himself face to face with a furnished bedroom, complete with a dresser and bedside tables. Such luxuries in this time of the world… the poor schmuck who had probably found him on the street was obviously rolling in cash. Sunlight streamed in the open windows, and the blue sheer curtains hanging from a dowel rod were pushed back to show the bright blue sky outside... a sight he didn't see very often. Mobile suit factories were usually letting out enough emissions to blot the sky in a haze of grey smoke. 

He shook his head, and recalled the previous night's events. That meeting with Zechs had him terrified at some points for unknown reasons. And what were with his eyes? Those white expanses looked as if they could hypnotize you to your own death… so eerie and cold… even Heero had trouble getting that eerie stare out of his head.

He spotted an adjacent door, and quickly patted himself down for his gun… with… wait… two hands? He gaped, as two five-fingered hands stared back at him. He flexed them experimentally, amazed to see such scarless expanses of skin. He had lost his right hand two years ago… due to unpredictable and unfortunate events…

His left hand felt the other tenderly, thinking it might only be a dream. Lithe fingers smoothed over his right hand and his eyes glanced up and spied an open bathroom door.

He shot out of the bed, his weak left leg seemingly fine today. In one of his missions, a stray bullet had ricocheted off the pavement while he was running, hitting his leg. The bone had shattered, and it had healed together wrong despite the three day operation he had undergone. He had never walked the same again. But this leg was scar free from the operations he had sustained to try and get his leg fixed. He stared, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

He made his way to the bathroom, hobble-free, to examine himself in the mirror. It was at that moment that he knew he had to be dreaming. Two Prussian blue eyes stared into the reflection of a man he did not recognize. No, this was a _boy _he did not recognize. This person was not Heero Yui.

_Heero Yui_ was 32 years of age, with only one usable right eye; the left socket hidden behind an eye patch after metal circuitry from his Gundam had come loose during a battle and sliced through his left eye, scraping along pieces of membrane with the flying metal. The left eye had been damaged so much that the only way to stop immediate infection was surgically removing it. The amount of damage was not reparable, and he could not stomach the possibility of getting a glass eye instead.

_Heero Yui_ was also a man whose former chocolate locks had faded to an ugly shade of brown after years of not caring for the strands. Annoyed, he had shaved it all off and had gone skin-head ever since. This full mane of hair on his head was not his.

_Heero Yui _also had a face that screamed, 'I'm an experienced assassin, so do not even TRY to effing mess with ME!' This, this… _kid, _had such boyish features that were laughable at the least. Not one person would be convinced that this was a terrorist that had wreaked enough havoc onto a planet to cause armed rebellion.

Theyouthful looking **boy **in front of him had him scared. This wasn't him. The man who was being reflected in the mirror was not Heero Yui.

He caught sight of a lump underneath the army fatigues he was wearing. He reached down, and to his surprise, pulled out a crystal rose petal. Donned onto a thin silver chain, that seemed stronger that it looked, the rose petal twinkled in the bathroom light mysteriously. There seemed to be a black flame burning in the center of the petal, and Heero turned it over to get a better look at it.

He heard the approaching footsteps of someone coming toward him, and finding himself unarmed, he stuffed the rose petal back under his shirt and readied himself for who he might come across.

But when Quatre Raberba Winner came into view, his Heero could feel his jaw drop in denial. Quatre had died in his arms, begging him to tell his wife that he loved her dearly, and for Heero to live on. Heero could do nothing as he watched one of his best friends die in his arms, his tears mingling with the blood pooling around them. His time with the pilots had somehow reverted Heero to somewhat rely on them, and when Quatre left, he had felt undeniably alone. Quatre had been a constant light to his darkness, and when he left Heero had nearly gone suicidal. He had been the last remaining pilot out of the original five.

Quatre raised an eye at the unusual army fatigues that Heero was garbed in. He tried to crack a joke. "You aren't going commando underneath all that, are you, Heero?"

"Quatre…" Heero murmured, stunned astonishment in his voice. He stepped forward and grasped the blonde teenager in a frightfully powerful bear hug…

…_clutching the bleeding man in his arms, cradling the blonde's small head. Blood was everywhere, on his clothes, his hands and face, the floors and walls, and even the high tiled ceiling. "Don't… don't leave me, Quatre, please," Heero pleaded with the dying man._

"_I'm sorry, Heero. I'm so sorry..." the man choked out, droplets of blood flying from his lips and onto Heero. Quatre's striking blue eyes were drowning in pain and agony, silently screaming to be put out of his misery. "I'm so sorry that I won't be here to see this thing through till the end." Quatre murmured, paining himself even to whisper._

"_No, you'll live! YOU HAVE TO!" Heero whispered furiously back to him, his eyes glaring at him. _

"_I'm sorry, Heero. I'm so sorry you're going to go through this alone…"Quatre's hand clutched at his Space Heart, even at the brink of death putting others before himself. "Please, Heero, tell her… tell her that I love her…"_

_Then Quartre Winner drew his last breath…_

…breathe, Heero. Take a deep breath now. By Allah, what's gotten into you?" Quatre looked down at Heero in concern, and Heero realize he had slid onto the tiled bathroom floor during his flashback. The pilot of Wing Zero looked around, dazed and confused. "Heero, are you alright?"

Heero studied the man before him. The Arabian multi-millionaire standing before him seemed to really be Quatre Winner. But that... was impossible...wasn't it?

…What on earth was going on?

Milliardo's eyes flashed in his mind suddenly, and then everything clicked into place.

…_Do you believe in second chances, Heero?_

The rose petal glittered underneath his shirt.

* * *

Hey everyone, thanks for all the great reviews for the prologue. Well, here's the first chapter to "The Glass Petal." Yes, it's short. I've currently seen my writing skills go down the toilet… along with a lot of other unmentionable things… 

Italicized paragraphs encased in "…"'s are flashbacks to the past from his original world.

Merry Christmas everyone, and have a Happy New Year.

Or, if you celebrate something else, or aren't religious, have a great winter season.

Let insanity ensue, Kolinshar.


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